Page 26 of Fake It 'Til You Sleigh It

Fuck!Now the alligator’s mouth is wide open—its piercing, jagged teeth facing me. I look at Ethan, silently pleading for help, horror etched across my face.

“Don’t move,” Ethan says seriously… before smirking. “Great idea, babe. Let’s show the fans!”

Ethan grins at his camera phone and starts filming. “We made it home. Chase is meeting the family! This is Bubbles, a dwarf alligator and my dad’s latest pet project. Ha! See what I did there, called it a pet project. You like that one, Dad?”

Doug and Darla wave enthusiastically, and Ethan(the fucker), waves Bubbles’ webbed foot at the camera. I sit, frozen, like I’m a hostage to the world’s strangest terrorist group.

Ethan stops recording and senses that I’m about one alligator tail swish away from a full-blown meltdown. He mercifully lifts the reptile off my lap and hands the “pet” back to Doug. “Well, Dad, I think we can safely say they’re not going to be BFFs anytime soon.”

“You’ll fall in love with him soon enough,” Doug says, smothering the gator with kisses. “I’m training Bubbles to be an emotional support alligator. He’s the third one I’ve raised. You’d be surprised how smart they are.”

Hmm.A super-intelligent animal with razor-sharp teeth. What could go wrong?

I guess when yourfakeboyfriend says his family is “a bit unconventional,” he really means “batshit crazy with a side of deadly reptiles.”

Wake up, Chase! Because this is one seriously fucked-up dream.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ethan

“You washed my ChristmasSpongeBob sheets? Aww thanks, Mama!”

I stride into my childhood bedroom, and it’s like I never left.

There are wall-to-wall memories, from my Pikachu posters to my Harry Potter magic memorabilia. My heart sings! And that desk in the corner? It’s like my high school yearbook in 3D. The playbills and trophies are a warm reminder of where my acting journey began.

I flop onto my bed, grinning. “The gang’s all here! Santa SpongeBob, Polar Patrick, Snowman Squidward!”

Mom beams, then turns to Chase. “Ethan got those sheets when he was twelve. He loved them so much, I caught him trying to stuff them in his suitcase when he moved to L.A.”

“Boys and their silly toys,” Chase manages. “And where will I be sleeping?”

“With me, of course.” I waggle my eyebrows and pat the bed.

“Oh… good. That’s what I was hoping for.”

“She tries to hide it, but she’s a big ole snugglepuss.” I leap up and squeeze her into a smooshy, overly sappy hug.

Huh. This feels… different.

For once, Chase isn’t her usual rigid self. She’s clinging to me, all soft curves and warm skin, setting my nerves ablaze as if someone struck a match. The scent is back—an intoxicating citrus aroma—wrapping around me like a sensual fog, and clouding my judgment.

For a heartbeat, I’m off script, lost in the moment. I forget we’re putting on a show.

Holding her is kinda… nice.

“Bless your heart, Chase. I don’t know how you do it,” my mom says, waking me from my haze. “Ethan sleeps like he’s tanglin’ with a gator, but hey, maybe that’s your cup of sweet tea. I ain’t one to judge.”

Chase’s arm slides behind my back. Her fingertips brush against the thin fabric of my shirt, sending pleasant shivers and raising goosebumps in their wake. The sensation is electric.

Well, damn. She’s got the touch of an angel. Or, more accurately, a she-devil wearing one hell of a tempting disguise.

Why am I suddenly imagining her toucheverywhere?

Her body goes rigid against mine. Before I can process the loss, pain explodes in my side.

What the actual fuck?!

---